The Shadow of Your Heart
by heremydear77
Summary: On Mustafar, Padme makes a choice. Anidala, eventual Vader redemption, ROTS forward
1. Chapter 1

_Something old I found on my computer. I still like it, and there's a strong possibility I'll continue it. Hope you all like it!_

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: Everything's Changed

Padme watched as her husband held Luke, humming and rocking him to sleep. Leia lay in her arms, snoozing soundly.

It was all she had wished for.

She just had to ignore all the pain that had been inflicted to get them here. All the terror her husband had reigned upon the galaxy. The death of the Republic and the birth of the Galactic Empire – right now, in this _moment_ , it all paled in comparison with her and Anakin's twin babies.

Padme lay atop their bed, dressed in a new nightgown Anakin had given her. The japor snippet hung around her neck, a reminder of why she would stay. Anakin held Luke by the window, watching the Coruscanti traffic and city lights. He whispered a familiar lullaby, one she knew his mother had sung him.

He seemed softer in the dark. More human, more like the man he used to be. The man she'd fallen in love with.

To say she didn't still love him would be a lie. She would always love him. But she refused to disillusion herself. Anakin was no longer that man, and she was starting to doubt he ever would be again.

That wasn't to say she didn't catch glimpses of the old him. Watching him with Luke, being the father he appeared to have been meant to be, filled her with hope. A hope she prayed wasn't born of naivete or stupidity.

Anakin finished his quiet singing, kissed Luke on the forehead, and set him down in the crib he shared with Leia. His actions were careful and silent. In the light from the window, Padme could see the pure love in his eyes, the wonderment at what they had brought into the galaxy. He came to her, took his sleeping daughter, and tucked her in as well.

"You should get some sleep," he whispered. He didn't look at her, and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Padme asked, a little louder than she'd intended. Luke's fingers twitched.

Anakin stopped for a moment, his back still to her. He turned his head toward the window, and she could see his features reflect the dim light. Padme could swear he looked as though he were about to speak, but before anything could be said by either of them, Anakin stalked out of the bedroom.

Padme watched her husband's retreating back. The door shut with a soft hiss, and she was alone. She stayed like that for a while, just staring until her eyes lost their focus.

Finally, she blinked, and the softened image came back crisp.

Padme didn't want to sleep. She didn't want to see Mustafar again, didn't want to see Obi-Wan and the rest of the Jedi (the younglings, she thought despairingly) come to taunt her, criticize her for her decision.

Throwing back the covers, Padme got up and padded to the kitchen. She left all the lights off – in the dark it was easier to pretend everything was the same, that nothing had changed other than the twins.

Her stomach growled, but she had no appetite. She poured herself a glass of water and went to the balcony.

Cool air sent goosebumps up her arms. She shivered, grateful for the distraction.

Cradling the glass between her hands, Padme leaned against the railing and closed her eyes.

 _"You're so… beautiful."_

 _"It's only because I'm so in love."_

Padme felt her throat close and her eyes begin to burn. She missed Anakin. She mourned him. She mourned the loss of their family, the idea of happiness between them. She grieved the death of her husband, even if she refused to think of it as such. But in the back of her mind, she knew it was true.

Anakin was dead.

A stranger had taken his place.

Anakin wouldn't fight Obi-Wan. Anakin wouldn't threaten her. Anakin wouldn't kill _children_.

But Vader would, and had.

These thoughts were borne of loneliness and sleeplessness. All of her doubts came pouring out of her, all her dark thoughts and anxieties over staying with Anakin, all to the forefront of her brain. She couldn't get rid of them, and they brought her to tears.

What of Luke and Leia? Would Anakin love them and care for them? Or would he lose his temper one day and … and …

Padme couldn't believe what she was thinking. Staying with Anakin for the babies' sake was a decision she refused to regret. Padme had seen the result of Anakin's visions before, and recoiled at the thought of his most recent coming true. Her death, the babies' fates ambiguous and bleak. To stay with Anakin, flush with power and the dark side, still seemed a better option than standing back and doing nothing. Her children now meant the most to her, more than her life and even Anakin's. If Luke and Leia's lives were ever at risk due to their living with their father…

Padme felt her shoulders shake under invisible, insurmountable weight. She brushed away her tears, trying to keep silent. She didn't want to wake the twins.

Ten minutes later, Padme went to bed. She didn't turn off her datapad until she heard the main door open. She feigned sleep as Anakin came inside.

Padme felt the mattress shift beneath her as Anakin sat. He didn't lay down, and she knew he was about to speak.

"Palpatine is dead," he said simply. Slowly, stiffly, Anakin lay down, and that was the end of it.

Padme grew numb with shock.

The Emperor was dead. And Padme was certain it was his murderer who lay beside her.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm such a flake I'm so sorry!_

 _Also, many thanks to my best friend for beta-ing this chapter for me. You can find her on ao3 under Lost_Athena._

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CHAPTER TWO: Conversations and Coronations

MUSTAFAR

Padme's hands burned as she struggled to drag her husband away from the lava. He was already aflame, his flesh bubbling and boiling away.

Anakin screamed and moaned in agony, and hurriedly Padme attempted to pat out the flame. When that didn't work, she covered him as best she could in the black volcanic sand that surrounded them.

"Oh, Anakin …" she whispered, her hand covering her mouth. Her other hand was wrapped protectively around her bulging stomach.

"Padme." Padme looked up and saw Obi-Wan as he approached her. Anakin began to scream again, out of anger now rather than pain. She almost moved away from him, the sound was so frightening. His face was a bright red now, the skin peeling, and his eyes were a bright yellow, so unlike the soft blue she had loved for so long.

Obi-Wan stared at her hard, like he was trying not to look at the remains of the man beside her. "Padme," he started again. "I can't let you stay with him."

Padme looked back at her husband, her vision blurred with her tears. Anakin lay on his back, helpless and injured. His legs were gone, sliced clean above the knees, and only one arm — the one he had already lost — remained. His hair, along with the rest of him, had burnt away. She couldn't imagine what would have happened to him had she not found him in time. Obi-Wan wouldn't have helped him.

"I can't go with you, Obi-Wan," Padme said. She met his eyes, and any anger she might have felt toward him drained away. Obi-Wan was devastated.

"But what of the child?" he asked — pleaded. "Neither of you will be safe."

"Anakin would never hurt me," she said, sounding more convinced than she felt. Padme resisted the urge to touch her throat, felt the phantom touch of her husband's rage. But she remembered how he'd stopped himself, how his eyes flickered from blue to yellow and back again. She remembered his sorry words, the truest display of Anakin she'd seen in days, and swallowed her doubt.

Anakin writhed again beside her, awoken from his daze. He bent his head back, possessed, eyes a blazing yellow, and began to laugh.

Padme struggled to her feet, repulsed.

"He's coming," Anakin rasped, his voice thin from screaming. "My master… he's coming for me…" His crazed gaze found Obi-Wan. "He'll kill you for what you've done."

Obi-Wan looked at her, and said, "I can sense him. Palpatine will be here soon." He reached out a hand to take hers—

"I'm staying with my husband," Padme said. "But you need to leave. You're not safe here, Obi-Wan." _I can't bare to lose you too_.

"Padme, I—"

"Go!" she yelled, settling back by Anakin's side. "I'll be fine."

Obi-Wan took a tentative step backwards, and then another. Reluctantly, the Jedi Master made his way back to Padme's ship, and left.

Padme wanted so badly to provide comfort to Anakin, but was afraid to touch him. She didn't want to cause him any more pain. So she met his gaze, and he met hers.

"I'm here, Ani," she whispered. "I'm right here. Everything's going to be fine. Just hold on for me, okay?"

Ever so slightly, Anakin nodded.

 _Okay._

Padme awoke feeling cold. It was a stark contrast to the sweltering dreamscape of Mustafar. She looked over at Anakin, who slept still. For just a moment, she studied him.

He was still bald. She doubted his hair would ever grow back, and she didn't think it mattered to anyone other than her. She was lucky he even survived, but Padme thought she would miss his golden locks.

When Palpatine had found the two of them, Anakin had immediately been put on a stretcher, and the two of them ushered to a medical facility on Coruscant. Nearly a day passed, full of pacing for Padme and surgery and pain for Anakin. When she saw him again, he looked like a stranger to her.

For one thing, he was taller. The new legs Palpatine had given Anakin were several inches longer than they should have been. His face had begun to heal thanks to the meager bacta treatments he'd been given for infection, but had not been treated beyond that and was beginning to scar over. It gave him a dark, angry look, marred his young face into something ugly. Padme had cried the first time she'd seen him that way.

The sky outside was still dark, but in the distance she could see the beginnings of a sunrise. With a quiet, weary sigh, Padme got up.

 _Palpatine is dead,_ Padme thought. _That's what Anakin told me last night._ It felt like a dream, hazy and indistinct. It felt like a nightmare. But she was sure it had happened. Sure of it.

So what now?

* * *

Anakin Skywalker awoke to an empty bed. These days, that wasn't wholly unusual. Padme was wary of him now, and had been for months now. She didn't look at him the same anymore. So why would she want to sleep in bed beside him?

The twins were out of their crib. Anakin yawned, feeling strangely calm after the events of last night. Palpatine's death once may have been a bad thing. Just a year ago, his death would have hit Anakin like a landspeeder. Chancellor Palpatine had been Jedi Skywalker's most trusted confidant, after all. A dear friend, a trusted mentor. He would have been mourned deeply.

But Darth Sidious was a different matter. Darth Sidious was nothing but a danger to everything he loved and cared for. If Darth Sidious were allowed to live, Padme and the children would not. This Anakin knew, and he would be damned if he didn't do anything about it.

Padme thought him a monster. Anakin wasn't sure what to think about that. Anakin wasn't sure what to think of himself, either. Was he a monster? He thought of the younglings in the Temple, the ones who had fallen against his blade, and thought maybe she was right.

But that didn't matter. _They_ didn't matter. Not anymore. The Jedi were dead, as was the Republic. Anakin didn't care, as long as Padme was safe, as long as Luke and Leia would grow up safe and loved by both their parents. They would live a good life, thanks to what he had done. Of this, Anakin was sure.

No one could accuse Anakin Skywalker of not loving his family.

Anakin stretched, feeling the aftereffects of everything that had transpired. Sidious had not gone out without a fight, which had been no surprise. Anakin massaged his shoulder, wincing slightly as the metal of his fingers dug into soft flesh.

Anakin had fallen asleep in his day clothes. He felt grimy, sweaty. He would need a shower later.

But he wanted to see Padme and the twins first.

He walked out of the bedroom, the door sliding open and shut at his command. They lived in a tiny apartment – which would soon change – so nobody was exactly hard to find.

Padme sat in the living room, nursing Luke. Leia lay in another crib beside her mother. For the first time since before Mustafar, since perhaps the scene on the balcony that had felt too good to be true, Padme Amidala looked _happy_.

Anakin smiled.

When Anakin walked into the room, Padme looked up, seemingly startled. She didn't look happy to see him, only uncomfortable.

Anakin opened his mouth, certain there was something he ought to tell her. But when nothing came to mind, he shook his head slightly and turned his sights on Leia. She gurgled happily at the sight of him.

At least someone liked him around here.

"Good morning, my sweet baby girl," Anakin cooed, swooping Leia up in his arms. She giggled, reaching up to touch his face with chubby little fingers.

Anakin felt Padme's eyes on him.

"What?" he said finally. Padme looked away, and after a long moment said:

"Palpatine is dead?"

Leia quieted, as if sensing the importance of her parents' conversation.

"Yes," said Anakin simply.

"Did you kill him?"

No need to be mysterious about it now. "Yes."

Padme looked a little taken aback at his blunt response, but recovered quickly. "So what happens now?" she asked. Padme sounded both resigned and disgusted. She looked him in the eye now, defiant.

"Now," Anakin said, adjusting Leia in his arms, "we bring true peace and justice to the galaxy." Had she not been listening to a word he'd been saying these past eight months?

"And what does that mean?" Padme asked, challenging. She refused to let go of her precious, useless democracy. But that would change, Anakin was sure of it. He would give her and their children the perfect galaxy they so deserved, and it would be under _his_ Empire.

"It means no more useless debates," Anakin said. "No more wasting time to do what must be done."

Padme raised an infuriatingly skeptical eyebrow. "And all of this will be done by your judgement, then. Who's to say yours is the best?"

" _I_ say so," Anakin said. "Mine's the only one that matters now, Padme."

Padme stood slowly, the hem of her skirt falling around her ankles. Luke squirmed slightly in his mother's grasp. Padme didn't look at him as she walked away, leaving him with this: "I fear for a galaxy under your rule, Ani."

* * *

She was losing him, Padme thought.

* * *

He was losing her, Anakin thought.

* * *

In the days that followed, Anakin Skywalker was crowned Emperor, leader of the Galactic Empire. Whether he knew it or not – really, truly _understood_ – Anakin held the fate of billions in his artificial hands.

Padme watched the ceremony on the sidelines, a heavy hood over her head and porcelain mask obscuring her features. Several bodyguards surrounded her, not unlike her days as Queen of Naboo, although this time it came with a certain sense of helplessness. No longer was she a warrior queen – no, she had now been simultaneously promoted and downgraded to a useless Empress.

She was nothing more than a figurehead for a tyrannical Empire that would drive the good people of the galaxy into the dirt. It disgusted her to no end.

Padme forced herself to watch Anakin as he delivered a grand speech. Her many years spent in galactic government alerted her to the many glaring cliches in his speech – she thought maybe he had written it all himself, foregoing any help – and listened for the meaning behind them. His words held naive (or were they simply false?) promises of peace, of renewed wealth, and … of the abolition of _slavery_. Padme jumped a little at that. That was a lie her husband would never tell.

She stared at him intently, across the wide space between them. Anakin caught her eye, and stared back at her. There was almost an expectant look on his face, almost hopeful…

The crowd erupted in loud applause that felt forced and joyless to Padme. It was the false approval of those with blasters to their backs. If they did not applaud, did not bow, what was to become of them?

Anakin stared at her, and Padme looked away.


End file.
